


The Beginning / The End

by davariax



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Canon Divergence, Gen, One Shot, Paradox Space, Post-Sburb/Sgrub, Short One Shot, entropy is the only finitely observable constant, homestuck epilogue, paradox space is kind, paradox space is not cruel, paradox space left them one final parting gift
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-12
Updated: 2016-05-12
Packaged: 2018-06-07 21:45:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6825667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/davariax/pseuds/davariax
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Entropy is the only finitely observable invariant.</p><p>The Game left them one final, parting gift.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Beginning / The End

It was the news of the century, of the millennium, of all of humanity’s existence probably. Nothing like it had ever happened before, and whether or not it would happen again was still up in the air. Reports of deaths, destruction - an apocalypse arisen to claim the sins of humanity, as many called it.

As weeks passed, the shock eased into a numb curiosity for some, a memory better left unopened for others. Millions had lost their lives in a single night, through a ‘freak meteorite storm’.

It was a miracle that the human race didn’t descend into anarchy, Rose reflected. That their game had left the humans’ infrastructure somehow intact, and allowed their world to flourish once more from the ravaging it had received. New cities grew up to replace the old ones, the web of roadways stretched out across the surface of the planet, and communication networks fumbled through their numerous failures to grow whole once more.

The game had left its players with final, parting gifts. The children became invisible gods of their home world, living on the moon and watching their home world mature without them. Dave often spun his turntables to watch the birth and death of nations, empires, whole intergalactic alliances and federations. Karkat would join him, occasionally accidentally tipping the balance of time and sending whole worlds in drastically different directions. Sometimes even for the better.

* * *

There were other sets of meteors out there. Portals that would warp open - here in the early terraforming of the planet Kapteryn, there in the far future of a small station nestled in a particularly large asteroid. Children born of and for the Game, their whole lives woven together from strands taken from all across Paradox Space. Each meteorite storm separated by hundreds of millions of years, some scarring planets like the first one did to Earth, others quietly flooding individual colonies in a way that was not quite natural.

Some of the players returned, and found their path to that moon lodged in the early days of Earth. Most others disappeared, impossible to find again, even with control over time, space, and void. A few died in the storm.

Inevitably, the other children would ultimately decide that they had had enough, and give their gift back to the Game, joining the rest of their people in death.

The first eight, with their predecessors, watched it all pass by. They played, paused, reversed, and fast-forwarded the music - years too many to count, or even fully remember. The trolls re-birthed their own species and watched them fight against, cooperate with, and eventually merge into the human race.

* * *

_Entropy is the only finitely observable invariant._

Perhaps the children had never seen the birth of their world, no they were formed long after its creation. The trolls had been there though.

They’d watched the child of their Game make its first croak, a wheezing sickly breath but it was so alive and bright.

They watched the child of their Game finally take its last croak, a wheezing sickly breath that was no longer cancer-laden, but on the verge of death - a dying beacon of light that had served its purpose and produced many, many children. The stars were reduced to lonely pulsars and dead rocks, the nebulas dispersed, heat settled from waves to a silent lake-reflection of the sky.

It was finally content.

They gave their gifts back to the Game.

**Author's Note:**

> (This is probably going to be wrecked by the canon epilogue.)


End file.
